


His Apprentice, Her Master

by Merfilly



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Ethics, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Mutual Dubious Consent, Post-Episode: s02e19-20 Twilight of the Apprentice, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:11:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: The Apprentice survived Malachor. Vader has kept her close, planning to use her, even as she uses that fact to shape a destiny she prefers. Only... it's always more complicated than a shadow game when emotions are there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Mindful of the tags. This is darker than my usual, and creepy. This is one of those fics that just insisted on being written though.

She didn't flinch when the gloved hand came to rest between her montrals. The last thing she wanted to do was show weakness like that, or fracture this hold on him. She was alive, and her continued living was something that mattered to him. Surely, eventually, she could make that work in her favor, turn his actions against the Empire?

When the thumb began to rub along one montral, she made herself remember better days, hazy memories of that caress soothing her when she was in a medical bay recovering from injuries or illness. It almost felt right; she'd always preferred the touch of his gloved mechanical hand, because it was uniquely him, one more edge of knowing her master cared for her.

Did this mockery of that man care? Or was she just a possession, someone he had chosen to keep as a trophy?

Those thoughts, and the ones of her Skyguy were hidden as deep as they could be, along with her ties and bonds to the Rebels. He'd tried to probe her mind once, a battle of wills that had left her nose bleeding and him escaping her presence in defeat. 

For now, she pressed into the caress, and knew it pleased Darth Vader to have her close.

+++

She had sealed her fate when she swore not to leave him. He had promised her she would die, and yet, when he had her at his mercy, he had chosen a different path. Skywalker's Apprentice was a threat to his Master, and that could be useful. 

She was a link, a dangerous one, to Skywalker's life, yet he could not help but find her an exquisite temptation in her own right. She had more skill and finesse than Skywalker could have given her, more strength, outside that compassion, than the Jedi had ever known. For her to have survived so long, on her own, and to have become such a threat on top of it only enhanced the frisson of desires that Vader was experiencing for the first time in years.

If he moved slowly, used the patience he had learned in his hatred of the man that had chained him to unending pain, he could turn her to his ends. In the meantime, she belonged with him, by her own words. His thumb moved slowly along the line of a montral, contemplating the beauty of the Apprentice.

+++

Ahsoka Tano had no idea how long she had been here. No one was allowed to speak to her, not even the droids. Nor were they allowed to touch her, a lesson she learned harshly when she had reached out and touched the hands of a young man bringing her a meal. Vader had raised his hand, and the servant had begun to choke, to Ahsoka's horror.

"No!"

Her anguished word had broken Vader's concentration, strangely enough, setting the young man free. Ahsoka didn't know if he survived still, as she had never seen him again after that day.

"None may touch you, even by your doing, Apprentice," he had rasped. Sensing something under the fury, under that possessive demand, Ahsoka had approached, settling beside his chair on the pillow there, her food set to one side.

"Except you?" she had boldly pressed, seeking to cement whatever the fascination was in hopes of using it.

For answer, the gloved hand had come to rest on her central lek, just above the wide blade of it in the vulnerable pinch point below her skull. 

Ahsoka Tano, with no sense of time, no contact, save what Vader gave her when he was there, was fast losing hope of making this work the way the Rebellion needed it to.

+++

He gave her the lightsabers back the first time she greeted him without snarling as he entered her suite. 

"Your ambition against the Emperor means you must practice, you must become even stronger than you were on Malachor, Apprentice."

Her eyes lit at the idea, and the hilts were secured to the kama and belt she had worn defiantly since he brought her here. "I will not Fall to do this," she warned him.

Vader stepped fully into her space, looming over her, gloved hands coming to rest on her shoulders, where his thumbs moved slowly along the lekku, almost absently. She shivered, a motion he could feel, and this was no sign of weakness, just as her defiance of the stronger path was not.

"It does not matter, so long as he dies, my Apprentice."

The possessive word brought another shudder, before he turned, leading her to a new room, one where her lightsabers could sing in harmony with his.

+++

He was not as nuanced as Skyguy had been in the way he used his lightsaber. More and more, he had relied on craft and sheer, brute strength to keep her at bay in their practice sessions. 

Ahsoka still felt a surge of joy, one she should have been guilty over, to be able to fight a skillful opponent, saber to saber, once again. Vader was merely a step, she would tell herself, an ally of necessity, to craft an endgame that had the Rebellion winning. She would, when he was gone, remember the echoing emptiness in the Force, and recall that he was responsible.

When he was there, she thrived on the combat lessons, the tricks to counter Sith capabilities, the strategy-building as they went over the Emperor's defenses together.

She told herself that pushing into the gloved touches were just one more step in the path of tying him to her. Moving her pillow at his feet closer, so she leaned against his legs was a calculated move on her part, to encourage the fixation that had him on her side. 

+++

She had bested him, and this time taken his legs from under him, pinning him with her blades crossed over his throat. Her face was an expression in primal beauty, even in the shades of red his vision was confined to. The rise and fall of her chest in panting breaths, the shine of her sharp canines in her victory snarl, even the narrowing of her eyes with a hunter's concentration left him fully aware that the desire had become full-blown lust to possess her more fully.

His control of the Force gave him the means, as he brought telekinetic pressure to bear on her lekku, her hips, while inserting his mind along hers to taste what that did.

She could not hide the flare of desire, as his touches took the adrenaline of a strong fight and cast it toward the mating urge, just as her body betrayed her by rocking against his armor.

He pressed his advantage, using the ghostly touches to drive her body into a full frenzy of sensations, drinking it all in through the mind to mind connection he kept.

+++

"When we kill him, how quickly will you turn on me, my Ahsoka?"

The words drew her away from the light drowse, as she rose up just enough to gaze at him in his chair while she rested on the bed. She knew his eyes were on the way her lekku fell along her breasts, her nudity nothing but one more tool to keep his fascination on her.

"Why would I, master?" she asked him, tipping her head slightly to the side. "Do you really want the headache of staying once we have? The aggravation of inferior beings always failing you? When we could both have freedom, somewhere out there?"

She almost heard an echo of a familiar voice, demanding such from him, long ago. Then his mind hardened against her, locking her out, and he rose to leave her there.

Ahsoka wondered if she had lost all she thought she had gained in her power over him as the door locked once more behind him.

+++

He could crush her throat. He could impale her with his lightsaber. If he wished to be subtle, perhaps merciful, he could poison her.

 _You killed her._ Memories haunted him, seeing the one death while he contemplated killing another.

A roar of defiance escaped Vader, as he chose to not kill this second chance. Together, they would end the Emperor… and then, she would be only his, somewhere far from the chaos that would ensue. Her life would be his to possess, as it should be. Perhaps they would even find a way out of the confines of the suit.

+++

She had collapsed, air-starved, but he was there, reaching for her, his mind sliding inside of hers as he struggled to remain upright.

~No more manipulations.~

The words were accusing in the same heartbeat as they were demanding. Ahsoka looked at the smoldering wreck of the Emperor's quarters, dragging herself to her feet, recalling both of her sabers to her. One came from where she had fallen, and the other… the other came out of the center of the detritus, where she had Force-flung it to save Vader's life, all while she had been choking. The Emperor hadn't expected that amount of concentration from her.

~Come away with me.~ 

It was entreating, hopeful, less the fearful demand a Senator had made, and more an offer of true escape from being part of destiny's puppets.

He had done horrible things, but so had she, and they both knew it. No one managed either side of a war without dipping into darkness.

Silently, the Master and Apprentice left the Empire to fall as it would, abandoning all pretenses of caring about anything but each other.


End file.
